


Outside It Starts To Pour

by sugarshackpeasant



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29984259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarshackpeasant/pseuds/sugarshackpeasant
Summary: A lot can happen when the love of your life leaves you for your cousin, she should know better than anybody. Rated Teen and Up Audiences for swearing, violence, and sexual references.
Relationships: Harry Clearwater/Sue Clearwater, Jared Cameron/Kim Connweller, Leah Clearwater/Sam Uley, Sam Uley/Emily Young
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Outside It Starts To Pour

**Author's Note:**

> The prologue is set after the newborn battle when Jacob's injured.

**Prologue**

* * *

The hostility in the room directed at her is overwhelming. Somewhere along the lines of a broken engagement and saving up for college she had gotten herself sucked into this mess. And it never stopped, it was the mess that kept on giving, draining the fight out of everything it touched leaving nothing but a jumble of scars and mistakes. It was one problem after the other, day in and day out (who knew the monsters under her bed were real?).

 _It’s all your fault, Leah,_ they told her. She scoffs at the recent memory, trying to bury the hurt rising in her. It was like another knife twisting into her (already bruised) heart. Underneath the surface, she can feel the raw emotions bubbling, begging to wreak havoc. Biting the inside of her cheek, and not realizing how hard she was until she tasted blood, she forces them to settle in the pit of her stomach.

Eventually, the hurt bleeds into the other deeper emotions. It piles up and it never fails to remind her of _that_ day. Getting overwhelmed is clearly not in her best interests. She has a mantra that she repeats; she likes to think that it keeps her sane, that it’s the thin line between madness and her broken heart. Like a lifeline, she clings to it, because everything is sinking and she’s drowning, and because no one wants to relive the tragedy that happened on that rainy day in the Clearwater household (what she caused). _Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about-_

She’s not quick enough (which is ironic considering that she’s the fastest in the pack; she always leaves everyone in the dust, but she still can’t leave completely; the beast inside of her is a curse that tethers her to the place she wants to leave the most). Just like she wasn’t quick enough to- _“Monster,” he wheezed out after he clutched his chest a final time. He went limp and his body dropped to the floor, in what seemed like slow motion, with a loud thud. She heard him exhale one last time and then agonizing silence._

She closes her eyes and presses her lips together tightly. She had waited that day. She had waited and hoped to hear him breathe again and for him to get back up. He didn’t and a piece of her died with him that day. Steadying her breathing, she leans against the narrow window, clutching its dark frame for balance, and attempts to concentrate on something, anything else. No one looks over at her. And she didn’t really expect them to.

 _“Not everything’s about you, Leah,” Jared had snapped at her earlier._ She chews on her lip (a habit she had picked up from Emily, back when they were kids). Grimacing, she glowers at a spot on the floor. The wooden floor hadn’t changed much over the years. Except when she and the twins had accidentally dyed it purple with hair dye. The happy memory brings a slight smile to her face. Her mom had been so mad but Billy had laughed it off, saying that Leah and the twins could clean it the following day. Her eyes roam the small house looking for where they had done it.

After realizing that neither of the twins had talked to her in months, her heart prickles. And it wasn’t like Leah blamed them (that much). It was hard enough being around La Push after Sam had broken up with her. It was even harder, _like torture,_ she thinks, after her dad had died. Their friendship is bittersweet but she doesn’t have the energy in her to be angry at them.

Old friendships aren’t at the top of her list of shit that she has to think about. She has bigger worries. Just because her scars aren’t as visible doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have them. If you looked hard enough you could see the fractures underneath. Even though it was easier for the pack to think that way (there’s a reason Sam still can’t quite meet her eyes) doesn’t mean they’re not there. They put it on her to make everyone’s lives easier. Acting like everyone else got the short end of the stick for having to deal with her.

 _“You’re such a liability, Leah. It’s all your fault.”_ What did they expect? No matter how unwilling, she’s a protector, she was protecting. But it doesn’t matter, it never will, (she never will). She’s just a woman who dared to have feelings and all they ever do is criticize her for it; she’s allowed to be something other than happy.

Her face is an emotionless mask, an art form she had perfected over the past couple of years. _“I want you to be my maid of honor,”_ resurfaces to the top of Leah’s memory. Gritting her teeth, she puts her chin up and crosses her arms. Even if she tried, she couldn’t hide from everyone’s harsh words and stares. She makes sure that she looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Detachment had become a comfort over the years. Caring was a luxury that couldn’t be afforded. Caring hurt no matter how unfair it was. After all, didn’t she deserve more?

Leah thinks back to the day Sam broke up with her. How she had been so happy hours before, how she had been looking for their wedding cake, how he had loved her so much. It just wasn’t fair. _Life’s not fair,_ she chides herself. There was nothing fair about any of it, she turns into a wolf for fucks sake. Why else is she alone? _She’s always alone._ Isolated. They never bothered to make her feel welcome. Joining a sacred brotherhood and being resented for it wasn’t something she asked for.

She misses the days when she thought she was going to leave. All she ever wanted was for someone to say that it’s okay that she’s still struggling to accept it all. Is it so much to want them to acknowledge that what happened to her is fucked up? Apparently yes, because all she is to them is a miserable harpy. And maybe once upon a time (long, long ago) she had friends and Sam to be on her side. But now she’s alone.

_She’s always alone._

She stares at her reflection in the window. Every time she gazes at a mirror she hopes to see something different. The ends of her hair don’t even reach her chin (she loved her long hair, and so did her dad, and so did Sam). It’s always so disappointing seeing what the mirror reveals. There’s a reason she avoids mirrors. Still, it’s a comfort to see that she’s still beautiful even with the short hair and anger and bitterness and a scowl that’s always etched on her perfect, perfect- _“you’re perfect, Lee-lee”_ \- face.

Back before she phased, before she was a monster- _“Monster. She’s… Leah… Monster… Mistake… She’s… a… mistake”-_ her smile was known to light up a room. She hadn’t smiled genuinely in such a long time. Regardless of that, it was easy to see why she was the life of the party. Compliments were her way of life, and she was called many things over the years, lovely, beautiful, stunning.

But the party stopped years and years ago. A lot of things did. She’s changed since the blissful years of high school. Sometimes she wonders what the old her would think of her now. Leah knows that she shouldn’t dwell on things, but it was easier said than done. How could she not dwell when everything had been a happy fairytale for the majority of her life? It all got worse when _they_ got engaged.

Her train of thought is broken by Jacob’s agonizing screams. _All your fault._ Letting everyone see through the cracks, she winces. _You're such a liability._ The pack glares at her. _Your fault._ The words in their eyes are front and center for her to see. She knows what they’re thinking, even if they aren’t in wolf form (monster form). _Monster… Mistake… Murderer…_

 _Why did he have to step in?_ She didn’t ask for his help (she didn’t ask for a lot of things, but here she is) and she didn’t need it. The situation was under her control. _Such a liability._ And even if she did need help (not that she did) why didn’t he just let her die? If she was such a problem, there was a ready-made solution for everybody. The sound of his bones breaking echoes in her ears. Her face falters.

_All your fault._

He shouldn’t have stepped in. Leah didn’t need to be saved, she wasn’t the girly wolf who couldn’t handle herself in a fight. She was strong. And she shouldn’t have to prove it at every sharp turn; she was handling herself just fine. But of course, Jacob gets put on a pedestal for killing the leech that she was already fighting. It’s not a crime to fight in a battle. After all, she was only doing her job. And yet everyone always makes it her fault. One day they might realize the problem, but for now, she’s stuck in a room filled with a pack that hates her.

What did she do to get here?

The tension in the room only grows thicker the longer they can hear Jacob’s screams. _Monster. Mistake. Murderer._ Feeling the disappointment in her rippling through the air, she leaves quickly, making her way through the cluttered house. She can tell when she’s not wanted. Laughing and smiling along with the Black family, she used to feel so at home. Now she had never felt more lost. Everyone can hear the faint clack of her faded sneakers on the hardwood floor. 

_All your fault._

They don’t look up. She walks out the front door and goes to the side of the house so that she can hide with the thick shrubbery and tall trees. Her inner wolf just can’t resist. The need to be roaming among the forest is strong even when she’s in human form. The wolf is always there waiting for any sign of danger or strong emotion to be unleashed from the depths that Leah trapped it in. Leaning against the side of Jacob’s garage, she takes out her half-full carton of cigarettes.

_Such a liability, Leah._

She flicks her black lighter on and lights the cigarette. It was a surprisingly clear night, a rarity for La Push, considering the constant rain. It was nice. Seth loved the nights where he could see the stars, in all their glittering glory. Smiling, she wishes that she had thought to bring him out with her. _Selfish,_ she thinks. She refuses to have him near her when she’s smoking. _“Bad for your lungs,” their dad had told them after they had seen him smoke._ Her heart aches at the thought of her late father. Taking a long drag and exhaling, she blows out the smoke in front of her.

She watches it dissipate slowly. Her dad had loved clear nights. He cherished a night where the stars were visible, and she had loved them too. Now, they were just a cruel reminder of what she had lost (what she caused). Aiming towards the damp grass that was wetting her shoes, she flicks the ash down. The soles of her shoes looked cleaner, which was nice because she didn’t have time to clean them sometimes. When she would walk back home after patrol, was when she normally put the shoes on. They got dirty pretty quick. Staring down at her feet, she takes another drag.

“Can I have one?” Paul says, gesturing his head in the direction of her cigarette. She glances down at the worn-out carton and hands it to him. He selects one randomly and holds it out to her. Lighting it quickly, she watches the flame sputter from the howling wind. He inhales and coughs a little, and she’s reminded that he’s newer to this than she is. A distant memory of her teaching an awkward thirteen-year-old boy how to talk to girls tugs at her mind. That was a long time ago. They’d both moved past the remnants of their childhood. “I couldn’t listen to his screams anymore. They were starting to get to me. I thought Quil and Embry were going to explode.”

She laughs bitterly, daring him to say something else.

“It was really stupid of you to take on that bloodsucker by yourself.” _And there it is._ She takes another drag.

_All your fault._

“I had it under control.”

“Sure you did, Leah,” Paul says sarcastically. He rolls his eyes at her. Gritting her teeth, she tries to keep the wolf that was itching to burst out at bay.

“It’s not my fault that he jumped in.”

“Nothing’s ever your fault, according to you.” _Wrong._ She killed her dad. Him dying, leaving Seth without a father, and her mom without her beloved husband, that was all Leah’s fault.

_Monster. Mistake. Murderer._

“That’s bullshit, we all know what would’ve happened if Jake hadn’t saved your ass,” Paul continued.

_All your fault._

“I was just doing my job, dipshit.” If there was a choice between this and anything else she would choose the latter, time and time again.

“What you were doing was being a liability.” _Monster. Mistake. Murderer._

“I didn’t ask him to help. Not my fault he got his ass kicked.” _All your fault._

“Wow. Cold-hearted, much? It was pretty obvious that you needed help.”

“Oh, fuck off, Paul.”

“What? Can’t take the heat?”

“All I ever do is take your guy’s shit. And whenever I snap back, suddenly it’s my fault.”

“You always provoke everyone into arguing with you.”

“What? Can’t take the heat?” she mocks. Can’t he just leave her alone?

“At least I’m not making everything about me.” If he wants to play games, she’ll give him something to play. Mind games were her specialty.

“At least I can keep a job without getting fired.”

“At least I have girls wanting to be with me instead of jumping ship at the first chance to shack up with their _real_ soulmate.” _That son of a fucking bitch._ She wills her body to not phase, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Paul’s words drag _his_ with him. _“We’re just not meant for each other,” Sam said, sadly._

It's a free game now. Paul went there, and he shouldn’t have fucked with her. A pack mind and a special gift of tapping into people’s biggest insecurities gives her the knowledge of what’ll set him off.

“At least I had parents that wanted me,” she says. Paul drops his cigarette immediately and starts shaking with a burning rage. He looks like he’s on the verge of phasing.

_Mistake._

“No wonder Sam left. You’re such a bitch, Leah.” He runs off into the woods after hastily taking off his clothes.

_Murderer._

Like she hasn’t heard that before. She drops her cigarette on top of Paul’s and crushes them under the heel of her shoe.

_Monster._

“Yeah. I know.”

She walks back inside.


End file.
